


Set Sail

by honestgrins



Series: Dashing and Deadly [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, aryaxgendryweek, post-canon reunion, post-smut cuddles, prompt: let's run away
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-18 23:24:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honestgrins/pseuds/honestgrins
Summary: Two years after leaving Westeros, Arya manages to get Gendry on her ship.





	Set Sail

Arya trailed a lazy hand across his chest, lingering on the feel of the soft curls that had grown since she'd seen him last. "You're really here," she marveled aloud. The ship gently rocked, lending to the almost dreamlike scene of having _him _in her bed. Panting against each other, she wasn't sure this wouldn't haunt her when it came time to leave again.

"Never thought I'd willingly step onto another boat," Gendry joked, his mouth settled and warm along her hairline. Eyes roving about the cabin, he held her just a bit more tightly. "Rowing away from Dragonstone took fucking ages, another almost led to my death beyond the wall. Then, this one took you away from me."

She winced, moving to sit up even as she mourned how easily he let her go. Two years after sailing the seas west of Westeros, and she still hadn't managed to forgive a bastard blacksmith for proposing marriage. Yet, as soon as she returned to King's Landing at her brother's request, she's pulling Gendry down to the docks and urging him into her captain's quarters. But he's not just Gendry anymore; he's Lord Baratheon of Storm's End. That was why it took her two years to get him onto the _Winter's Bite_. Had he still been only a boy that kept her secrets, he might have been with her all that time at sea. "You know I couldn't accept," she answered stubbornly. 

His head shook automatically like he wasn't fully conscious he was doing so. "What else was I supposed to do? We had- I had a name, a home to offer you. I-" Licking his lips, he hesitated before opening his arms, just as she paused before falling against his chest again. If she only had one more night to revel in his warmth, then she would take it. "It doesn't matter now, I guess. I've missed you." He looked around her cabin once more, giving a fond smile to where Needle hung next to the door. "So, this is where you've been?"

"It's been a good place to rest my head," she shrugged with her lips brushing against his neck.

"Not a lot of space, though."

An eyebrow arched. "Someone's grown used to his castle."

Gendry floundered as his whole face turned red, a stubborn pride taking offense. "I'm not a bloody lord, Arya, I'm just...doing my best. And I thought you might- I wanted to make sure that-"

She kissed him, something fierce as she clung to his lips before pulling away. "It's just me," she promised. "You were the one who was supposed to find someone to share a bed. A real lady. Why didn't you?"

Leaning in, he let the kiss last far longer. Their hands wandered, both moaning at the easy exploration. She left him gasping in her mouth when she reached down, grip insistent upon him. "That's not me," he finally said, forehead pressed to hers while her heart clenched in pain. "Us lowborns, we only marry when we really want to. Watching lords prance their daughters in front of me felt like a cruel joke, not when the only one I wanted fought like hell to make sure she didn't get stuck with the likes of me."

Horror fell like a cold stone in her stomach, and Arya scrambled away from him. Only mildly softened by the way he reached for her, she couldn't help the way she curled in on herself. Knees folded to her chest, she blinked at him. "_You_ weren't the problem, Gendry." It was a confession, one that had weighed on her for many a moon. Regret wasn't worth dwelling on, but his slack face as she turned away from his earnest proposal was all that came to mind if the subject came up. 

"I was, if you didn't want to marry _me_," he countered, not unkindly.

"I wouldn't have been marrying you," Arya spat. "I would have been marrying Storm's End and the Stormlands. That's what my mother did for the North, and look how it repaid her. How it's repaying my sister." Sansa had been bandied about the realms for her Stark name and Tully blood for too long, and she refused to leave Winterfell with good reason. It was the whole reason she made the trip back to King's Landing alone, to represent their family at Bran's nameday celebration. Otherwise, she might not have met Gendry's eye at the tourney and all but dragged him back to her ship from the feast later that night. Hungry and full of longing they refused to acknowledge, they absconded to the docks not two courses in. "All I wanted in this life was freedom, to find my own path not defined by the sons I'd bear."

His entire face screwed up in confusion. "Seven hells, Arry, I don't care about all that. I only wanted _you_."

A small smile pulled at her lips, and she gave into the urge to kiss him again. It was a little melancholy, but she really had missed him. Her fingers scraped through the short beard he wore, a far cry from the patchy teenager he was when they'd met. Years, wars, bloodshed -- none of it mattered when he was right there. "I could summon my crew. If the whores and taverns are willing to part with them, the _Winter's Bite_ could sail by sunrise. I'd let you share my chambers. Not exactly a castle, but-"

Gendry cupped her face with his giant hand, rough and worn despite his years of relative leisure. "I have people now, those that come to treat with me and expect my attentions. My protection."

"I don't need your protection."

Rolling his eyes, he finally met her eyes with an affectionate gaze. "As if you haven't spent years proving just that." He pressed a sturdy kiss to her cheek, only to smile when she leaned up for a deeper one to her lips. Her whole body lurched up against his to accompany it. "Is this how we're doomed to live? Constantly begging each other to stay where we can't?"

Arya lifted a shoulder. "I can do what I want, you're the one being stubborn." But even Gendry's glare seemed too fond, and she wondered if Storm's End and all it represented was really so scary. Maybe if she made him slip back into his tunic, then she could think more clearly. But seeing him in his lordly clothes at a noble feast had been too jarring, and Arya made it a priority to remove them as quickly as possible. If anything, he'd grown bulkier in their time apart and the sight of him in her bed was...distracting, to say the least. "You could come with me," she tried more plainly. "Our names don't follow us across the sea, not that they should determine our happiness here anyway."

"Of course they shouldn't." His arms slipped around her waist, hauling her up to hold her close. Eyes closed, he nuzzled into her neck. "Doesn't clear up the situation at hand, though. I've got lands to take care of, the people that live there. Never asked for them, but they're mine now. You wouldn't like me to abandon them, not with how you talked about your father dealing fairly with his folk."

And there laid the crux of the issue. Circumstances had allowed them to be set at odds, entirely out of their control, therefore near impossible to overcome and set right. Her sister had tried in many a letter to convince her to marry Gendry, just as Bran dropped hint after hint that they end up in the Godswood anyway, with children and grandchildren to follow eventually - if only she chose that path.

With Gendry warm and naked and ever so lovely in her bed, Arya struggled to remember why she was so against the idea. Her parents seemed happy enough in their life together, after all, and there were worse husbands to be had in all of Westeros. Her siblings would be pleased at the political advantage of adding a Lord Paramount to the family, and even Jon liked him. 

Jon. She missed him just as much, and wanted daily to turn her ship north to visit the Wall. "Then you don't abandon them," she finally said, emotion catching in her throat. "Just...come with me for a spell. We can go to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, check in on Jon. I'll return you to Storm's End safely, and we can..."

"We can...?" Gendry trailed off hopefully, his eyes nearly shining in the weak moonlight filtering through the windows. A hand drifted into her hair, gently massaging into her neck until she fell pliant in his hold. "Tell me what you want, Arya."

She looked up to see his eyes wide and honest, trusting her not to break his heart again. And _gods_, she didn't want to. "I want to live."

They could figure out what that meant along the way.


End file.
